<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Killer in the Mirror by Mysta</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884510">Killer in the Mirror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysta/pseuds/Mysta'>Mysta</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ATEEZ (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Best Friends Jung Wooyoung &amp; Kang Yeosang, Choi San is Whipped, Fluff and Humor, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Jung Wooyoung is Whipped, M/M, Mirrors, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, again thats what wooyoung thinks, at least thats what wooyoung thinks, based on that one concert VCR, kind of, wonderland era hair styles, wooyoung is whipped for san and so am i, wooyoung thinks san is pretty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:20:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28884510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysta/pseuds/Mysta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's someone in Wooyoung's mirror.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi San/Jung Wooyoung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Killer in the Mirror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! This is my first ever published fanfiction so um...please be gentle? </p><p>tw: I'm not really sure it counts but right after Wooyoung sees San the second time, he freaks out a little, so if that bothers you, you can skip the paragraph right after "He freezes." </p><p>Title unabashedly stolen from the Set It Off song.</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He doesn’t know when the other man first began appearing in his mirror. What he does know, however, is that the other man doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t breath, and expresses no emotions besides those found in a blank stare. He knows that the other man may attempt to kill him at any time (how he would accomplish this, he does <em>not</em> know, but he won’t underestimate the other man’s abilities). He knows he should be far more terrified than he is because <em> there’s someone in his mirror, for fuck’s sake, </em> but he’s honestly too drained from college to manage anything more than halfhearted apathy. </p><p>He also knows that the other man is <em> pretty </em> , which is probably part of the reason Wooyoung isn’t nearly as scared as he should be, most days. Sure, the other man is always in his mirror and there’s a chance he’s some sort of murderous spirit, but he’s <em> hot</em>. He’s all sharp edges and broad shoulders, narrow eyes and thin features and silky blue-black hair that brushes the nape of his neck, possessed of the kind of effortless beauty Wooyoung can’t help noticing the very first time he ever sees the other man. Granted, the first time he sees the other man, he hasn’t slept in gods only know how long and he’s pretty sure there’s more caffeine in his bloodstream than actual blood, but <em> damn </em> that person in the mirror looks <em> really fucking good</em>. Wooyoung thinks it’s illegal for a hallucination to look like <em>that </em> and yet be dressed in the softest, fuzziest sweater he’s ever seen because that kind of duality is just <em> unfair</em>. </p><p>Wooyoung also thinks it’s illegal for him to be awake any longer, so he promptly flops onto his bed and passes out. </p><p>When he wakes up, he’s completely disoriented - he has no idea what time it is beyond the fact that it’s dark outside his window, or how many days he’s been asleep - and his phone buzzes insistently from somewhere in his bed. He sits up, one hand raking sleepily through his recently-dyed blonde hair - <em> damn he really should have showered </em> - as he gropes around for his phone with his other hand, one eye popping open and catching on the full-sized mirror standing beside his dresser. </p><p>He freezes. </p><p>The man he’d thought a hallucination last night still hovers in the reflective surface, handsome face impassive as he stares unblinkingly at Wooyoung, and Wooyoung’s blood runs <em> cold </em> . Fear grips him so intensely that he can’t move, can hardly breathe, air coming in shallow gasps, gaze locked onto cat-like dark blue eyes. Wooyoung wants to believe that he’s only dreaming, that he’ll wake up again soon and the other man will disappear as a half-remembered nightmare, but he’s <em> never </em>had a dream this vivid, this terrifyingly real, before, and the other man <em> still </em> hasn’t moved an inch, and maybe Wooyoung is on the verge of hysteria because <em> he doesn’t know what to do</em>. </p><p>His phone buzzes again, and Wooyoung nearly screams. He glances at his phone, and then at the mirror, and makes a decision. In a swift movement, he grabs one of his black sheets and flings it over the cursed thing, then dives back into his bed and picks up the phone with trembling fingers. </p><p>“Sangie, you won’t believe what happened to me!” He whines into the phone immediately. </p><p>“Nice to hear <em> you’re </em>alive and well,” the man who called him replies drily, and Wooyoung can practically hear his eyeroll. “Did the store sell out of the half-decent ramen again?” </p><p>“No, that would be a tragedy, and you’d be crying with me. Listen! I think - I think I’m being haunted.” Wooyoung lowers his voice and moves into the living room, uneasy. “There’s a person in my mirror.” </p><p>“Yeah, generally it’s yourself. Wooyoung, are you sure you’re not hallucinating again?”</p><p>“Yes! He was there when I went to sleep and he’s still there now. And he’s really hot. Are hallucinations supposed to be hot?” </p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” Yeosang chuckles. “But look, if it’s freaking you out that much, I’ll swing by in the morning to check it out, okay?” Wooyoung blinks in surprise and checks the time on his phone, belatedly realizing it’s four in the morning. </p><p>“That’s fine, Sangie. Why are you up so late anyway? Don’t you have work today?” </p><p>“Yeah, but I wanted to check in on you before I crashed for the night. You haven’t answered anything in the past couple of days and I’m the lucky one who got to make sure you weren’t dead from caffeine overdose.” </p><p>“Maybe I’ll die because of the hot ghost instead.”</p><p>“And you’ll love every second of it.”</p><p>“You aren’t wrong. Hey, think if I ask him out, he’ll say yes?” </p><p>“You don’t have the balls,” Yeosang snorts. “Good night Woo, I’ll see you in the morning. Try not to die, kay? Love you.” Before Wooyoung has a chance to reply, Yeosang hangs up. </p><p>“Meanie,” he mutters with a pout, but he can’t deny that he’s calmer now. Not that he’d ever tell his longtime best friend such a thing. </p><p>Since he’s already awake, Wooyoung decides that he might as well get ready for the day. He has a class in the late morning and an afternoon shift at his part-time job, and he knows that if he goes back to sleep now, he’ll sleep through his alarms. But that involves going back into his bedroom, and he doesn’t know that he’s quite ready to confront the other man again, even if he’s covered up. Although, he reasons with himself, dying at the hands of a pretty ghost-spirit-person-thing doesn’t sound like such a bad way to go - and, anyway, there’s no actual proof that the other man is even murderous. Besides, being haunted is far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, and he’s pretty sure his classes are scarier than anything a ghost could do to him. </p><p>Far less panicked now that he’s had time to process and bolstered by his own thoughts, Wooyoung shakes his head at himself and ventures back into his room to shower (he doesn’t remove the sheet - he may not be as scared anymore, but that doesn’t mean he wants the ghost watching him). A few hours later, the sun has risen and floods his tiny apartment with warm morning light. He’s deep into a drama when Yeosang knocks at his door before letting himself in with the spare key. </p><p>“Alright, lemme see this ghost boyfriend of yours,” is the only greeting Wooyoung gets before Yeosang vanishes down the hall towards Wooyoung’s bedroom. </p><p>“Wow, no ‘hi Wooyoungie, so glad you weren’t ghost-murdered’? Rude! And he’s not my boyfriend!” Wooyoung calls after his best friend with a roll of his eyes, turning off the T.V. and standing. </p><p>“Not yet!” Yeosang calls back. Wooyoung sighs and joins him in his bedroom, muttering curses under his breath. Still, he whips the sheet off of his mirror with a flourish (he’s dramatic, sue him), revealing the other man just as he was earlier.</p><p>“Damn.” </p><p>Wooyoung nods an emphatic agreement with Yeosang’s assessment. He’s too captivated by the way the sunlight catches on the other man’s sharp cheekbones and full, pink lips to muster up a coherent response. The other man is somehow even better-looking in full sun, his skin a gorgeous tan and his eyes a stunning blue. Yeosang grins. </p><p>“Whipped,” he sing-songs teasingly. Heat rises to Wooyoung’s cheeks, and he shoves at Yeosang’s arm. </p><p>“I’m not!”</p><p>“Yes, you are. Anyway, I gotta go, bye, love you!” Yeosang laughs, speed walking out of the apartment. “Don’t simp too hard!”</p><p>“Love you too, fucker!” Wooyoung shouts back. He sighs and turns back to the pretty man in the mirror. Wooyoung has no idea who he is or what he is, but at least he’s easy on the eyes, and maybe Wooyoung kinda sorta really wants to know more about him. </p><p>So maybe Yeosang’s only a little bit right. </p><p>It’s been a few weeks since then - at least, Wooyoung <em> thinks </em> it has, but to be fair he’s terrible with time. He notices more details about the other man practically every day, and if he can describe the other man’s looks with his eyes close because of how often he stares at him, it’s no one’s business but his own. Wooyoung’s begun talking to him absentmindedly when he’s doing things in his room and tells him about his days. He’s no longer even remotely scared of the other man. Instead, his fear has been replaced with immense curiosity - who even is the man? How did he get here? Is he stuck? Is he down for a date? Why doesn’t he move? - and he wonders often if he’ll ever get answers to his questions. After all, Wooyoung thinks he might like making friends with him, because all the friends he has are (very loving and caring and sweet) assholes and he needs new ones (he doesn’t. He loves his friends...sometimes). Still, the man has to <em> move </em>first, or at least make some indication that he’s sentient, before that can happen. </p><p>He’s in the middle of ranting about his least-favourite class - “the professor is such an ass, he makes us do the same damn thing over and over again and his directions are rarely clear and his lectures are <em> so </em>shitty” - when the other man suddenly shifts in the corner of his eyes. Wooyoung flips onto his stomach, startled into silence by the unexpected movement. He watches wide-eyed as the other man blinks and stretches his arms over his head, his shirt lifting to show the barest sliver of abs. His gaze bounces lazily around the room and catches on Wooyoung. </p><p>“Sorry, were you saying something?” The other man asks kindly and <em> holy shit </em> his voice is as gorgeous as the rest of him, deeper than he expected, but soft and sweet. Wooyoung kind of wants to wake up to it every morning. </p><p>“No, uh, not really,” Wooyoung stammers out when he realizes that the other man has cocked his head to the side and is waiting for an answer. “I-you-” he struggles to put together a cohesive sentence, completely bewildered by the sudden turn of events. He wishes there was a verbal equivalent of the giant question mark he feels float above his head right now. </p><p>“Oh!” The other man giggles - <em> giggles!</em> - as his pretty pink lips lift in a dimpled - <em> dimples! </em> - smile, as if he just realized the reason for Wooyoung’s astonishment. “Sorry, I went on vacation for a few weeks. I hope I didn’t scare you too much!” </p><p>“Nope. Not scared at all. Perfectly non-scared,” Wooyoung says, shaking his head for emphasis because admitting that he was absolutely terrified that first night would make the pretty boy sad, and that’s the last thing Wooyoung wants to do. Also, the other man is radiant and adorable and Wooyoung is kind of overwhelmed. </p><p>“Great! I’d hate to scare someone as cute as you.” Wooyoung’s heart is about to beat out of his rib cage because <em> what the fuck, the ghost is flirting with him, that’s not fair </em>. “My name is San!” </p><p>And to Wooyoung’s continuing surprise, San -<em> his name’s perfect too, how is this real </em> - steps out of the mirror, materializing as an actual person in the middle of his room. Wooyoung thinks he’s about ten seconds from passing out because <em> literally what is going on? </em></p><p>“Wooyoung,” he forces out, dazed. “Nice to...meet you?” San laughs, the sound squeaky and cute. Apparently, he’s amused by Wooyoung’s confusion. Wooyoung’s seriously having trouble processing right now. </p><p>“Well, it’s certainly nice for <em> me </em> to meet <em> you </em>, cutie.” Wooyoung just stares at him as his brain catches up. San waits patiently, a half-smirk quirking his lips. This part of his job is always the best, and having the cutest boy he’s ever laid eyes on flabbergasted in front of him only makes it better. </p><p>A few minutes later, Wooyoung’s finally registered everything that just happened and suppresses the urge to scream into his pillow because the handsome ghost in his mirror that’s been <em> haunting </em> him has just flirted with him and stepped out of a <em> mirror </em>and is smirking oh-so-smugly at him.</p><p>“Am I dreaming?” He wonders out loud.</p><p>“If you are, I guess that makes me your dream man, huh?” </p><p>Wooyoung blinks. He can’t believe those words just came out of San’s mouth, and judging by the pink rushing to the other man’s cheeks, he can’t either. </p><p>“That was so cheesy, what the hell?”</p><p>“It really was, huh?” San chuckles, and Wooyoung can’t help but laugh along with him, because he didn’t expect the man in his mirror to have such a dorky sense of humour and such an infectious laugh. “I’d like to say I’m sorry, but it got you to laugh, so I’m really not.”</p><p>“Yeah, but now you gotta make it up to me,” Wooyoung replies, a slight grin tilting his lips. </p><p>“How does lunch sound? I’d love to get to know you better, pretty boy.” Wooyoung rolls off of his bed and stands up. </p><p>“What a coincidence, I’d love to get to know you better too, ghost boy.” San frowns at the nickname, but smiles and offers his hand soon after. Wooyoung smiles back and takes it, lacing their fingers together. </p><p>So maybe Yeosang was right.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
(‘Ghost boy? What kind of nickname is that, anyway?’</p><p>‘The kind that you get when you hover in my mirror for weeks on end without moving even an inch. I thought you were gonna, like, ghost-murder me or something.’</p><p>‘I’m not even a ghost. And, anyway, I would never murder someone with such a pretty face.’</p><p>‘Sounds like something a ghost-murderer would say.’)</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So there it is! I wrote it for my best and only atiny friend for her birthday and she encouraged me to post it, so lots of thanks to her, she's adorable and I love her. If you liked it, feel free to leave a kudos! And I might expand on this, so if that's also a thing you'd be interested in reading, please let me know!</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>